


Letters

by fanetjuh



Series: Jonsa Week [62]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 06:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18190889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanetjuh/pseuds/fanetjuh
Summary: King Jon of Westeros is traveling through the seven kingdoms and while Sansa waits for him to return she writes him letters about their daughter Runa.





	Letters

Sansa stared at her daughter, bent over her embroidery work with the tip of her tongue between her slightly parted lips. 

Her daughter had Sansa’s piercing blue eyes, focussed on the piece of fabric and the stitches she was trying to perfect. But she had Jon’s dark curls, surrounding her angelic looking face. But her daughter didn’t just have Jon’s hair. She also had inherited his stubbornness, his loyalty and most of all a burning fire in her veins that made her fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. In a very unladylike manner. 

_My beloved Jon,_

_When this letter reaches you, you’re most likely on your way back to Winterfell, on your way back home. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again and to share those small moments of wonder with you that I now have to write down so you can still be a part of them. Because with each and every passing day Runa grows up to be everything you had wanted your daughter to be and so much more._

_A few days ago I discovered that Runa had fled from her septa again. The poor old lady had been looking everywhere for her. She had barely dared to come to me, afraid that I would be angry, especially if something would have happened to Runa while she was supposed to be under the Septa’s watch. It took me half an hour to explain her that I didn’t expect her to cage a free bird._

_Even father never fully tried to cage Arya, something I’m still thankful for until today. If father had not allowed Arya to take those sword fighting lessons to wield needle, our future might not have looked this bright and long. I know that mother would still wonder how we are every going to find a suitable husband for our Runa, but I hope that after the big war, and the roles both Arya and Brienne played in it, our men have learned to value a weapon wielding lady._

_We found her in the kitchen. Both her nose and her lip were bleeding and small wounds covered her knuckles, but she didn’t look half as bad as the boy opposing her, who had the length to tower over her, but was on the ground with two black eyes and a few broken bones. And yet our daughter still believed he had not gotten what he deserved._

_When I asked Runa what the poor boy had done to deserve her beating, she assured me that she had proof that he had threatened quite a few girls and had stolen kisses and touches from them. And even though I had to teach her that she couldn’t take such matters into her own hands, but had to come to me with them so we could serve justice, I couldn’t be prouder of her either._

_I hope that dealing with people like him will be the worst of her problems, now and in the future. Because I’ve seen war and I don’t want my children to live through one. But if another war ever happens to Westeros, I know who will be winning said war, easily. She will make powerful enemies. She will probably lose a few battles here and there. And she will need someone with a sharp mind at her side to keep her from throwing herself recklessly into situations she can’t oversee completely. But she will also inspire loads of people to rally behind her and to give their lives for her and those she loves._

_Just like you._

Sansa looked up from her letter when Runa cursed. 

The sharp needle had pierced her daughter’s skin and drops of blood were staining the white cloth. Not that there was much to ruin. Runa had never displayed any talent when it came to embroidery. She had never dared to ask to not have to do it anymore either though. Most likely because the customs of Westeros were hard to shake and Runa was afraid to disappoint her parents. As if she ever could.

“Why don’t you put that aside to take Black Wind on a ride?” Sansa smiled. “Your father will be home in two weeks from now. He will certainly want to race the two of you to see if you have improved during the last few months.”

“Will you join us, mother?” Runa stood up from her seat and she put her bleeding finger in her mouth. “I promise not to race away from you.” Runa smiled and Sansa couldn’t help but smiling back at her.

“I want to finish this letter to your father first.” Sansa saw the disappointment on her daughter’s face. “But you can already saddle the horses. I will come down in a few minutes.”

Runa wrapped her arms around her mother and pressed a soft kiss on Sansa’s cheek. “Tell him that I’m counting down the days already.” She hurried out of the room and rushed down the stairs, her footsteps echoing through the castle.

A few minutes later Sansa saw Runa running across the courtyard to the stables. Sansa never liked being without Jon, especially not for so long. But no matter how far apart they were, she cherished the piece of himself that he always left with her. 

_But for now I want her to stay like this. Carefree. Lighthearted. Innocent. Just like we once were, before King Robert showed up at our doorstep and asked father to be his hand. And even though the future didn’t turn out as bad as I once feared, I wouldn’t be able to go through the pain of seeing her harmed in anyway._

_Just like Runa, I am also counting down the days until you are safely back home with us again. No matter how awesome Runa is and no matter how often Bran and Arya visit, Winterfell only feels complete when you are here too._

_With all my heart,_

_Sansa_

She read over her words once more while she waited for the ink to dry. She had sent countless of letters during the last few months and she had gotten just as many back. But no letter, no matter how sweet, was as good as being in Jon’s arms and kissing his lips.


End file.
